#matteo is such a bastard

[3llisarts]

Matteo Rossi - appreciation post

You thought I had a wip to share? hA

*Gif creds to their respective owners < 3

I fuckin love my lil sarcastic son

[obsessedwithceleste]

All’s Fair in Love and Quidditch

Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw Reader

Summary: All’s fair in love and quidditch. At least until Matteo’s poorly aimed bludger knocks you off of your broom.

word count: 3.7k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

“Get your wand. Out of my face.” You growl between clenched teeth, glaring up at the tall boy in front of you whose wand was dangerously close to the tip of your nose.

Theodore Nott. You’d first met the boy in third year on the quidditch pitch after his team had beat yours. It had been a long and grueling match and the only reason they’d won is because of that bloody snitch. Ravenclaw had been up in points the entire match. You remember the boy smirking at you as you lowered your broom to the ground.

“Better luck next time principessa.” He’d said.

You’d taken that personally, and the very next week, you’d stolen the position of top of the class in potions from him. This had apparently acted as a declaration of war as the two of you began constantly finding ways to outdo one another.

You seethed with hatred for the boy. Constantly challenging you in classes, on the pitch, even at prefects meetings. You two simply could not see eye to eye; which he constantly reminded you was likely because he was well over half a foot taller than you. Bloody bastard. It didn’t help that the boy was aggravatingly handsome. A detail you couldn’t help but appreciate as he loomed above you. Still, you glare on.

Despite the immediate threat of peril, you remained surprisingly calm knowing that, while you and Theodore may be intense rivals, he’d never actually harm you. At least you hoped. You’d seen his knuckles bloodied plenty of times before, but he’d never harmed so much as a hair on your head. Yet.

Theo’s words shake you back into the present.

“Then get off the bloody pitch. Like we said, we have the pitch booked until 7.”

“No, we booked it starting at 6. We have a signed slip from Flitwick,” You retort.

You watch Theodore’s eyes flick over to the piece of paper Cho was now brandishing smugly before whipping around to his teammates behind him.

“What the hell Malfoy. You were supposed to have Snape reserve the field!” He shouts.

You roll your eyes at the bickering boys. This is one of the many reasons you disliked the male population of Slytherin house. Wildly disorganized, yet still expecting to have everything handed to them.

“I did! They must’ve bloody double booked it!” Draco replies, glaring at the paper.

“Well then it looks like either you all leave, or we’re sharing,” you say decidedly, much to the grumbling of your teammates.

Theo scowls at you. “We gathered as much thanks- we’re not idiots.”

You give the boy a sugary sweet smile. “You’re doing an awfully good impression of it then.” You reply, hoping that if you annoyed him enough, he’d leave already.

You watch the boy’s jaw and fists clench tightly as his scowl deepens before he turns and stalks off.

“C’mon. I’m not dealing with that bloody witch today.” He snaps at his teammates who follow hesitantly, but not before shooting some nasty looks over their shoulders.

Once they’re out of earshot, you hear your teammates burst into laughter.

“That was bloody brilliant!” One of your beaters calls out, leaning on his broom as he shakes with laughter.

“Oh y/n, he so likes you,” Cho snickers as she pushes past you onto the field.

Your jaw drops open at that and you rush after the girl.

“Excuse you, you can’t just walk off after dropping something so wildly ridiculous on me like that,” you protest, mirroring your friend as she hops on her broom and takes off into the air.

“Oh please. I could cut the sexual tension between you two with a well placed diffindo charm. And he’d never give in to anyone else that easily. Now heads up or your head will be taken off by that bludger,” she responds easily, dodging out of the path of the ball hurtling towards you.

You quickly follow, barely managing to side sweep the bludger before turning back to your friend. Before you’re able to further probe her however, she’s taken off in search of the elusive snitch.

You try to shake off her words as you continue to fly through practice, joining your fellow chasers as they go head to head with your keeper, trying to make a shot through one of the hoops.

“Nice shot, y/n! Better keep that aim up for the game this weekend. I wanna beat those snakes so bad,” the keeper shouts as you make throw past him.

“Not a chance in hell those slithering bastards are taking the cup again,” you reply with a grin.

“Excited to see your little witch today?” Matteo asks, plopping himself into his seat next to Theo.

Theo glares at his curly haired friend, snapping his textbook closed with a grunt.

“She’s not my witch Mattheo. I can’t stand her,” Theo mumbles back.

“Right, right. It’s just y/n this, y/n that. Did you see y/n helping Cormac with charms the other day? He’s such a bloody wanker. Blah, blah, blah.” Enzo says, joining the two boys at the desk next to them.

Theo scowls at his so called friends. So what if he happened to notice you a bit too often? They knew full well that the two of you had a sort of rivalry going on and that he had to keep tabs on you to make sure you didn’t sneak something by him. Constant vigilance and what not.

Before he could defend himself however, you burst through the doors of the potions classroom with a group of your fellow Ravenclaws, coming to take your spot at the desk directly in front of him.

“Hey, thanks for giving us the pitch last night Theodore. Stomping off the field like that, was really such a testament to you being the bigger person.” You say, turning to give the boy an innocent smile as you slide into your seat.

“What can I say, I just know your team will need all the help they can get to try and beat us tomorrow,” Theo replied easily, eyes falling as he notices the hem of your skirt ride up a bit higher than normal as you sit down.

“Aw, that’s so considerate coming from someone whose shooting percentage is barely over 50%.”

Theo’s eyes snap up at this.

You hear Enzo snicker at that before he quickly attempts to cover it up with a loud cough.

“Yeah? It’s so interesting that you know my stats off the top of your head.” Theo retorts.

“They really help build my ego when I feel like I’m playing poorly.”

“So always?”

You glare at the boy, but before you’re able to respond, the professor clears their throat, forcing you to turn in your seat.

As the professor begins droning on about whatever potion it was that you were to be making that day, Theo’s eyes couldn’t help but wander to the pretty witch in front of him. For such a pain in his side, you sure were easy on the eyes. Before he knows it, he feels Mattheo’s elbow digging into his rib cage.

“C’mon lover boy, neither of us are going to pass if you don’t start focusing less on y/n and more on this potion, cause I was not paying attention.” Mattheo grunts, pulling him off his seat and over to the stock of potion ingredients along the back wall.

“I wasn’t even looking at her,” Theo protests, glaring at his friend as he begins pulling ingredients haphazardly off the shelves.

“Right. Because if you were, you’d have noticed that the white ribbon in her hair was crooked. Bothered me the entire time we were sitting there.” Mattheo replies, leaning lazily against the counter.

Theo shoots a nasty look at his friend realizing his eyes had once again wandered over to the witch in question.

“The ribbon in her hair is navy blue you dolt. And it’s not crooked.”

Mattheo gives him a victorious smirk.

“Too true. So glad we cleared up the fact that you were only staring enough to remember the exact color of her hair ribbon and whether or not it was crooked.”

With another smug look over his shoulder, Mattheo saunters back over to their shared desk, leaving Theo to finish collecting ingredients in agitated silence.

Glancing back down at his list, Theo quickly collected the rest of their ingredients, tossing the anjelica, bitter root, and daisy root essence into his basket, careful to not steal any more obvious glances at you.

As he went to return to his seat, the soft petals of the flower assortments sitting neatly in their assigned jars once again caught Theo’s eyes and a small smile grew as a masterful plan began to form.

“That BLOODY, FUCKING SNAKE!” you shriek as you open your quidditch locker to find a stunning bouquet of bright daises and velvet roses propped up against your broom.

Hearing the commotion, Cho rushes over to find you glaring menacingly at the offending flowers, a look of exasperation overtaking her face.

“For Rowena’s sake, not flowers. How dare he. The nerve,” she says dryly.

“Aww. How romantic. That’s so sweet. Are they from Theodore?” One of the other chasers adds, coming to see what all the noise was about.

Your glare shifts to your teammates as they peak into your locker to get a glimpse of the flowers.

“I’m allergic.” You grit out. As if to emphasize your point, you let out a loud sneeze, feeling the pollen reach your nose.

Your teammates’ faces fall slightly at your statement and you go to extract the flowers from your locker.

“Well- I suppose there’s something to be said about the fact that he knows exactly which flowers you’re allergic to, and how he went out of his way to buy them for you?” Cho offers as you toss the flowers onto the bench behind you.

A note flutters to the floor.

“Yes. It can be said that he’s a psychotic wanker with too much free time,” you say, bending down to snatch the note off the ground.

Good luck Principessa, hope you play similarly to how the flowers make you feel xxTheodore

“He literally tried to kill me so I wouldn’t be able to play,” you announce dramatically, thrusting the note card towards Cho who rolls her eyes as she shakes her head at you.

“Alright, we need to focus. Y/n, get rid of those flowers, we don’t need you sniffling all match. Everyone on the pitch in 15!” Cho yells, pulling the team together.

Shaking the thoughts of that damn Slytherin from your mind, you unceremoniously dump the large bouquet into the trash before quickly changing into your robes.

“Everyone remember the new offensive formations? We need to take them by surprise. They’ve gotten way too comfortable running the same defense against every team. Remember. If you can’t see Mattheo or Blaise, they’ve flanked you and there’s already a bludger aimed at the back of your head. Theo and Enzo stick together, third chaser is on their own. Flint is a lefty, if you can, always go for the right hoop. Prioritize y/n, when going for the goal posts unless you think they’ve picked up on it. Don’t worry about me and Draco, focus on gaining a lead. Everyone clear?”

You blink once, soaking in Cho’s words.

“Alright. Let’s get out there and stomp on some snakes.”

Your teammates let out loud whoops as you make your way out to the field, adrenaline beginning to course through your body. The breeze blows gently through your hair and the sun shines softly behind a thin layer of clouds. The perfect day for quidditch.

As you grow closer to the pitch, you can hear the loud cheers and hollers coming from the stands, the faces of your fellow Ravenclaws grinning down at you.

“Coin toss is on you, y/n. Try not to let him rile you up too much, yeah?” Cho says, mounting her broom with the rest of the team.

You nod as they take off and make your way down to the center of the pitch where Hooch is already waiting.

“Ah, y/n! Beautiful day for a match yeah?” She greets as you approach.

You offer a tight smile and nod as you see Theodore approach, cocky smile in place.

“Alright, you two know the drill. Snitch or broomsticks, Ravenclaw, your call, on three,” Hooch says, holding a large gold coin out on her palm.

You feel Theodore’s eyes on you as Hooch tosses the coin into the air.

“Broomsticks.”

The three of you watch as the coin hits the ground, three gleaming broomsticks shining in the sunlight.

Theo’s lips tighten, but he doesn’t say anything.

“We’ll take the ball first then,” you say with a tight lipped smile.

“Very well, go on then, shake hands.”

Swallowing your displeasure, you tentatively extend your hand.

With a lop sided grin, Theo grasps your hand.

“Like your flowers Principessa?”

“They were lovely. Really spruced up the trash can.”

Without another word, the two of you returned to your respective sides of the field, joining your teams in the air.

“We got ball,” you shout, once you’re within earshot of your teammates. The boys let out a whoop of excitement.

“Let’s make this a nice, clean match today, yeah?” Hooch shouts from her place on the field. Without waiting for a response, she points her wand at the chest, waiting below and the lid flies open, releasing the balls within.

Your eyes immediately lock onto the quaffle as it makes its way into the air, diving down and snatching it, a chaser on either side of you. You slip easily into your rhythm of dodging and weaving around your opponents, passing the quaffle around as you make your way to the opposing goal posts.

As the ball is being passed back to you however, Enzo pushes past, intercepting. Cursing under your breath, you whip around, close on his tail.

As if seeing your need, a bludger whizzes straight at Enzo, forcing him to drop the ball into your waiting arms.

This time, you’re able to make it to the opposite side, but with Theo and Enzo close on your tail, you’re forced to surrender the ball to your teammate who narrowly misses.

“Next time!” You shout in encouragement.

This back and forth goes on for what seems like ages, with neither team managing to score a point.

Finally, the ball is back in your arms as you speed towards Flint.

“Don’t choke now, Principessa,” you hear Theodore shout from beside you on the right.

“Please. Save your breath. You’ll probably need it to blow up your next play,” you retort.

“You know your ass is probably jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth.” Theo snaps.

“Yeah? You’d love to see my jealous ass wouldn’t you?”

Theo jolts in shock, and that moment is all you need to take a dive to the right, securing the first goal of the match.

It all falls into place after that and soon enough, your team is up 80 points. A comfortable lead, but not enough.

“C’mon guys! C’mon! Keep it up, this one’s ours!” You hear your keeper shout as they toss the quaffle to you.

You nearly fumble the catch as a bludger soars past your broom.

“Stay on her and keep those damn bludgers away!” You vaguely hear Cho call out to one of your beaters as you again make your way to the opposite end of the field.

After scoring two more goals, the Slytherin team finally gets the idea to begin putting more pressure and focus on you, with at least one chaser always guarding you.

“For Rowena’s sake, I don’t even have room to breathe!” you shout as you pass Cho briefly.

As the match continues with no end in sight, Mattheo and Blaise begin to grow bolder, narrowly missing a few heads. Their own teammates’ included.

“Watch it you bloody wanker!” You hear Enzo call out after Blaise nearly takes out the end of his broom.

With a sharp turn, you’re able to break away from his steady pursuit just long enough to safely secure the quaffle once more.

“Dammit Enz,” Theo grunts as he flies up beside you.

You ignore their bickering, eyes taking in the field and your surroundings. You spot your other two chasers gliding below you, gearing up to be positioned for a clear pass. Your beaters are no where in sight, and only Rowena knew where Cho was flying off to.

You make several attempts to lose the two green robed Slytherins on either side of you, but they remain stuck to your side.

Suddenly, you see Enzo’s broom dip. Thinking this is your chance, you turn quickly, trying to see if you have a clear pass to one of your teammates.

“Y/n!” Theo shouts.

But it’s too late.

The last thing you remember is the feeling of falling and strong arms wrapping around you before everything goes black.

When your eyes finally flutter open, the first thing you notice is the sky and how dark it is. What time was it? Slowly, you begin to sit up, a distinct pounding in the back of your head causing you to wince slightly. Looking about, you realize you were in the hospital wing and still in your quidditch robes. Ew.

The next thing you notice, is the mop of soft brown hair lying face down on the hospital bed beside you. As your eyes follow the body down to the chair it’s slumped on, you take in the familiar green robes that distinguish the boy as a Slytherin.

The hairs on your neck prickle as you recognize the boy. How could you not?

“Theodore,” you whisper, giving the boy a poke.

No sign of life.

“Theodore,” you say, a bit louder this time, shaking him gently.

“Shove off Matt. You and Toria can find another place to shag for the night,” he grumbles, shifting further into the coarse hospital bed blanket.

You let out a snort.

“Seriously Theodore, wake up,” you say, growing frustrated.

Finally the boy sits up groggily before appearing to remember where he was.

“Oh. Mornin principessa,” he drawls, smiling lazily at you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What happened? And why on earth are you here of all people?” You ask, ignoring the pet name that you seemingly couldn’t shake as a yawn escapes you.

“That’s really no way to treat your knight in shining armor.” Theo tsks, stretching his arms out and leaning back in his chair. “I’m the one who caught you after Matt knocked you off your broom after all. Bludger to the head is no joke.”

You grimace. No wonder your head was throbbing.

“What a fucking git,” you grumble, falling back onto the bed.

Theo shrugs, not seeming to disagree.

Stupid Mattheo and his stupid bloody aim. Utter shit. And of course it had to be bloody Theodore of all people who saved you. Though you weren’t entirely sure you minded, closing your eyes briefly, an image of Theo in his quidditch uniform flashing through your mind.

“You never answered the second question.” You say after a moment of silence.

Theo looks at you, his head cocked to the side.

“Why are you here?”

“You’re hurt,” he says simply, as if it made all the sense in the world.

Your frown doesn’t quite reach the tips of your mouth as you look over at the brunette boy staring back at you.

No matter how many times you told yourself that you utterly detested the boy, you were never quite able to say it with your full chest. And for Rowena’s sake, it was not fair for someone to look this good at this time of night, in sweaty quidditch robes.

“You don’t like me.” You say quietly, not quite sure how true that statement truly was as the boy’s eyes had yet to stray away from you.

“Oh I can’t stand you.” Theodore replies, suddenly much closer than you remember.

“You’re the absolute worst person on earth,” you say, feeling yourself magnetize towards the boy beside you.

“I despise you with every bone in my being,” he responds before slowly, tentatively closing the gap.

His lips are fire against yours, not burning, but consuming. You feel yourself getting lost in the sensation of his lips moving hungrily against yours as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you in closer. You would definitely be blaming this lapse in judgement on the fact that you’d taken a bludger to the head earlier. Or maybe not, you think hazily as a soft moan escapes your lips.

“Easy there principessa,” Theo murmurs, pulling away and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Let’s not hurt that pretty little head of yours.”

With a silent nod, you lean back, mind still reeling a bit given the night’s events.

Hesitantly, as if not wanting to spook you, Theo edges his way onto the bed beside you. Realizing his intent, you scoot over a bit, allowing yourself to be tucked carefully into his arms.

“If it makes you feel any better about being knocked out, Ravenclaw did end up winning. And your team visited after the match was over.” Theo says as you rest your head on his chest.

You smile at that.

“Good. Slytherin is shit.” You reply.

“You take that back.”

“Make me.”

Theo’s lips find yours once more, and you feel him grin against your lips.

“I’m still mad about those flowers you sent by the way,” you say once he pulls away.

A smirk overtakes Theo’s face as he looks down at you.

“I’m sorry principessa.”

“No you aren’t,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“No I’m not. That was one of my better bits I’d say.”

“It was pretty good.”

Another yawn escapes your lips, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the boy holding you in his arms.

“Sleep now, principessa,” he says, fingers stroking gently through your hair.

You didn’t have to be told twice.

Not a single person was surprised when the Slytherin and Ravenclaw quidditch teams walked into the infirmary the next morning to find the two of you wrapped in each other’s embrace.

“Bloody took them long enough,” Mattheo says, finally breaking the silence.

Cho can’t help but nod in agreement.

The rivals to lovers quidditch fic that no one asked for, but I wrote anyways 🤗

[oh-puffle-cakes19]

Brats Making Noise

- Fluff; Mattheo Riddle x Reader x Theodore Nott

- Summary; The other boys in the common room get too noisy for Matteo liking as you and Theo are sleeping.

Word count - 1k

“Will you lot, be quiet!” Letting out a grunt, Mattheo turns around making you loosen your arms around him, “Sorry, my love,” he kisses your forehead, as he can’t exactly reach Theo, he opts for stroking his forehead softly. In return, Teddy gave him a small sigh of approval.

“Never knew Riddle would be whipped enough to decrease the noises!” Enzo smirks, playfully as he pulls out another card from his deck.

“A month ago he would be playing with us and shouting louder,” Blaise laughs, putting down his card.

“The cocky bastard is all loved up, can’t even see clearly with the cloud of mist,” Draco snickered.

“(House Animal) and snake has theo into the mix, he could have at least played uno with us,” Blaise sighs, leaning back.

“What happened to him anyway?” Lorenzo asks the stupid question.

“Turn around and see for yourself, how many times? You are so oblivious,” Draco shook his head, pulling out another card to place.

Lorzeno turns around to see you three on the sofa, “Ohhh, I see what you mean Bliase,”

“I can still hear you,” Mattheo opened one eye to look at his friends, “Theo couldn’t barely sit up straight let alone play a bloody card game!”

“Protective much, it’s a fucking card game,” Enzo grins as he shows his cards to Matt.

Mattheo rolls his eyes, having no time to argue with the barbaric brat. He’s like a fish out of water, most of the time, does not take a hint.

For a while during their card game, it did get quite.. too quiet! However, Mattheo already had his eyes closed, snuggled up with you and Theo, not caring about anything other than you both.

By now, You and Theo have both changed positions snuggling into Matt’s neck as he is in the middle. His protective arms graze with light touches like feathers to comfort you and Teddy.

“Oh, the fuck sake will you stop trying to cheat!” Draco shouts loudly, reaching across the small table and yanking Lorenzo’s jumper over his head.

“Why, did you do that forrrr?” Enzo whines, with a scowl appearing with messed up hair as he pulls his jumper back down.

“If you can’t see, you can’t cheat!” Mattheo snapped his eyes open to the sudden abrupt noise, “Now will you shut the fuck up because my princess and teddy are trying to sleep,”

Theo makes a grunting sound as he turns his body to get comfortable against Matt. He didn’t want to move the two of you since you both had little to no sleep for the past week due to you both being sick.

You whine, “Matty, too noisy,”

“Shh, princess, I know, we going to go to bed now,” Mattheo was just about to get up until Draco spoke up.

“Oh, so sorry your highness,” Draco snorts, “Didn’t realise you stole Theo by your charming Witt too!” Shuffling his non-existent deck as he places his second to last card in front of Enzo, “Uno,” he says, smirking.

“That's it!” Lorenzo makes all the cards fly around the room with his wand. The small table crashing against the wall.

Blaise just holds his head in his hand, “Your such a sore loser man,”

Mattheo seeing all the chaos unfold, deciding to not go until things have calm down in fear of something to be thrown at him while holding you.

“You did this last time and the time before that, why can’t you just play normally,” Draco huffs, “Has Daphne not giving you her attention,” his face soon turning into a teasing grin.

Lorenzo’s face becomes inflamed with range but nowhere near Mattheo’s face.

“You can not play quite nor fairly, if I hear one more pipe out of you two, I will feed you to Potter on a platter stuffed with an apple,” Matt snarled sharply.

“Sh, Sh, my sweethearts, go to sleep,” Mattheo whispered, gently stroking both yours and Theo’s forehead. Matt has no clue how you both have not fully woken up yet with all the chaos. Now it makes it easier for him to carry you both to bed as he is in the between you.

Both of his friends quit their snarky words towards each other, and just nod, giving the fact that he has been the moody/grumpy one in their group.

However, ever since Mattheo has been officially dating you and Theo, he has been a lot more pleasant to be around.

“We are going to bed now, so you have all the chaos you want,” Mattheo rolls his eyes, carefully standing up and lifting you into his arms.

“Yh, night; sweet dreams,” Lorenzo teases, Draco smirking as he knows what he means.

Mattheo has you into his arms leading you to his and Theo’s dorm, lying you on the bed gently.

“Where’s our teddy,” You slightly open your eyes, muttering into your sleep as Matt lays you down.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to pick up Teddy, princess,” Matt whispers, kissing your forehead as he tucks you in, “I’ll be back,”

You nod, snuggling under the covers, satisfied.

Mattheo hurries to the common room seeing that Theo is indeed still asleep. Just as Matt picked up Theo without any effort at all.

Lorenzo stretches his back and yawns, “Sweet dreams, lover boy!” With a wave of his hand. Draco and Blaise snickering at Enzo’s comment. Matt glares at them, not bothering to comment as his priority is his girlfriend and boyfriend.

“Matty,” Theo snuggles into his chest. Matt lays Theo down next to you, instantly you both clung on to each other like Velcro.

“Teddy,”

“Princess,”

“Sweet dreams, my sweet boy and girl,” Matt kisses both of your foreheads before sliding into the bed, Theo feeling a strong arm wrapped around him as he turns to have his arms around you.

“Goodnight, Teddy and Matty,” You barely heard Matt but you still could make out what he was saying.

“Mm, Goodnight, Cara Mias,” Theo mumbles, drifting to sleep with you both.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Summary: Mistakes are made, and the consequences have begun to come home to roost.  

Word Count: 4,415

Warnings: Violence, decapitation, and pregnancy.

Notes: Don't ask me why I continue to chose to write things that require a good deal of action when it's one of my weakest points as an author. But I did try to do a few things stylistically to make it hopefully a little less painful to read.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 17: Heads Will Roll

Luca was still inside the truck when, to his horror, the roar of machine gunfire began to assault them from above. One of his boys who had already stepped out into the square went down, blood spraying from the holes that the weapon ripped through his torso.  

He had just enough time to burst from the doors of the van and dart behind it, using the body of the truck for cover from the barrage of bullets raining down on them. He only had the briefest of moments to catch sight of Shelby up on the terrace above them, hunched behind a massive machine gun aimed down at where they were all gathered in the square. 

For a moment, his head spun, heart hammering in his ears, trying to process just what the actual fuck had happened. 

One second, they were following Shelby’s car into a secluded little square surrounded by apartment buildings, the next, they were being assaulted with seemingly unending gunfire.

His teeth gritted. It had been Polly Gray. That bitch had baited him. Shelby had probably been in on the whole fucking thing from the beginning. 

There were no easy exits, and very limited cover, especially with Shelby already up above them with a bird’s eye view of the square. They were like rats in a fucking barrel.

His finger flexed preparedly against the trigger of his gun, waiting for the cease in the gunfire. Shelby would have to reload sooner or later. And Luca was fairly certain that it was just him. The little red-haired whore hadn’t been with him when he left the hospital, and if he had any other men with him–especially that mad dog of a brother–they would already know.

There was a brief break in the gunfire, and Luca took his chance, whipping around from his cover behind the truck, firing wildly in the air towards the terrace. Shelby ducked down behind the rail and out of sight, but Luca didn’t stop firing. Behind him, his men joined him in unleashing a storm of bullets in Shelby’s direction. Luca just barely could make out his figure dart from the crate he was huddled behind and into the open door of the flat nearby. 

A seize of rage squeezed at Luca’s throat. The fucking bastard was getting away. He roared orders to his men, sending them in different directions to come at the apartment from the multitude of entrances available to them. Matteo and a few others remained behind him as he ducked into a doorway that led to a staircase. 

His focus was so intensely turned above, fingers flexing against the trigger of his gun while he climbed the steps, ready to fire in case Shelby suddenly appeared above them, that neither he, nor any of the others, noticed that while they had entered the building with five of them, only four had made it to ascending the stairs.

∗ ∗ ∗

Lucy slowly lowered the heavy body of the Italian to the floor, her left hand clamped tightly over his mouth and nose, the other supporting his shoulder so she didn’t drop him.

They had not even noticed, as she jumped stealthily out of the shadows she’d been crouched in, snatching the Italian lingering at the back of the group after the others began to climb the stairs. She’d cut his throat at the same second she covered his mouth, keeping his sounds contained in the leather of her gloves as he died. It did not take long; her hunting knife cut into him like butter, purposefully angling his body back slightly so that the blood poured out onto his chest, rather than splattering all over the ground. 

She kept her movements smooth and silent, slinking up the stairs like a cat. Luca and two of his soldiers were climbing the stairs quickly, their focus up above, where Tommy had been, and not down below. The fourth member of their party had fallen behind a little, taking too long to try to peer out a dirty window. Quick as a viper, Lucy darted forward, and repeated the movements she had just inflicted upon the first Italian, hand clamping over his mouth and carving into his throat with her knife. 

It was risky, taking him like that out in the open on the stairwell. But they were still in the shadows, Luca and his men so far up ahead and focused on getting Tommy that they weren’t even considering what might be creeping up on them from behind. Still, after setting the body of her second victim down on the stone steps, Lucy pressed her back against the most shaded wall, waiting until she heard the men step out onto the terrace of the level that Tommy had been shooting at them from. Not that Tommy would be there anymore. 

She knew where he was headed next, just like she knew a shortcut through this very stairwell that would lead her right to him. 

Halfway up the stairs, she heard an exchange of gunfire from somewhere nearby, her shoulders instinctually drawing in until she realized that it wasn’t for her. It lasted only for a few moments, and then there was silence once more. She continued to race up the stairs, swallowing the bead of fear in her throat. 

Please be okay.

She had to figure that he was, otherwise she’d have been hearing the shouts and jeers of victory from the Italians right about now. Angling her head up, she adjusted her grip on the knife, and continued her ascent. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Tommy shouldered his way past the sheets hanging from the clotheslines. They fluttered and twitched in the breeze, surprisingly heavy as he pushed through them.

He flinched at the blast of gunfire that sharply followed him, pushing his legs to run faster, barely keeping ahead of the stream of bullets that clinked audibly where they smashed into the railing that lined the roof. The Italian man who had shot at him in the stairwell was still following him. 

Tommy raced to the door that led off the roof, then hesitated. The Italian had stopped firing, fidgeting to reload his gun. Fast and silent, Tommy ducked and weaved through the white and blue sheets, taking care to avoid stirring them and giving away his approach. 

He came to a stop when he could see the silhouette of the man through the large, white swath of cloth hanging between them. He fired at it, teeth gritting savagely, bullet casings falling to the ground with a tinkle of metal. The white sheet stained red.     

There was a shout to his right, and he mentally cursed at the realization that the Italian had brought a friend with him, the man’s rifle already half raised to point at Tommy’s chest. 

His movements were impeded by a sudden, violent jerk, eyes going wide as saucers, a hand flying to his throat as a knife embedded itself in the space just below his ear. He went down like a bag of rocks. 

“You alright?” Lucy asked, jogging out from behind the fluttering sheets, going to the Italian where he had crumpled and unceremoniously yanking her knife from his neck.

“Yeah. Are you?” he reached out a hand to her, helping her to straighten, looking her over for injuries.

“Yeah.”

“Right. Come on,” he beckoned. She followed right behind him as he pushed his way back through the swaths of drying sheets, leading the way inside. They burst through doors, into apartments containing huddled family members, staring back at them with terrified eyes. Tommy shouted orders for everyone to stay down and inside. Not just in the hopes that they would listen to him and remain out of the crossfire, but also to draw Luca in and after him with the sound of his bellowing voice. 

“Do they know you’re with me yet?” he asked Lucy as they rushed down a hallway. 

“I don’t think so. I’ve gotten three so far,” she stopped as they came to a staircase. “You go ahead. I’ll stay here and hunt them through the halls. I think that I might be able to get one or two more.”

Tommy hesitated, the thought of just leaving there making his stomach churn. “I don’t…”

“They’re so focused on you, it’ll be a wonder if they see me at all.” She was reaching up to tuck her hair more securely under her cap to hide the distinctive shock of red. “Most likely they’ll just think I’m a tenant of the building. A tiny little woman in an apartment building full of women and children? They won’t give me a second glance.”

“Unless they recognize you.”

She gave him a look, touching his cheek. “I’ll be careful.”

He glanced nervously at the hallway behind her. There was no time to argue. And he trusted that she knew what she was doing. He stooped low to kiss her.

“Be safe.”

“You too.” She took a step back from him, twirling her hunting knife. “Go.”

He cast her one last look, and took off climbing the stairs. 

∗ ∗ ∗

“Luca,” Matteo hissed from over his shoulder. “Luca,” he repeated, when he didn’t answer right away. 

“What?” Luca growled back, head snapping around the glare at him like an angered dog. 

“Where are Vincenzo and Sal?”

Luca looked back down the hall where his men were lined up behind him. Vincenzo, Sal, and Frankie had met up with them inside the apartment, having already swept the lower levels. Good thing, too, considering that Marco and Dante weren’t with them. Strange; he’d thought that they had followed him inside, but they must have stayed out on the square.  

But now all he could see were Frankie and Rocco behind him and Matteo. 

“Did you tell them to break off?” Luca asked, annoyance sharpening his tone to that of a needle, eyes narrowing in slits at Matteo.

“No! I didn’t say a thing to them.”

His face twitched in frustration, fighting back the urge to shout. “Useless motherfuckers…” they would be in for a sharp reprimand when this was all over. Breaking plans and formation without orders…

“Do you think Shelby might’ve gotten them?”

Luca gave him an unimpressed look. “How?” Unless Shelby had suddenly changed his tactics from shooting to a silent method of killing, or, even more unlikely, managed to somehow sneak around and behind them, there was no way he could have picked off Marco, Dante, Vincenzo, or Sal. 

No, it was just his men thinking that they knew better than him. Fucking Matteo, encouraging everyone to read that book about taking initiative a few months ago. What was so wrong with just being a good fucking soldier and listening to your superior officer?

He couldn’t focus on that now. All that mattered was getting Shelby. He was so close. So close to getting the vengeance and justice he had dreamed of for over a year. He would bring Shelby’s head to his mother, he decided. As a gift. She could mount it on her wall. Or place it on a stake outside her house for the crows to feed upon. 

He shook his head sharply, and, like a panther stalking its prey through the jungle, began to lead the way down the hall.  

∗ ∗ ∗

Frankie peered into the apartments, eyes sweeping over the mother laying facedown on the floor, both arms around her two children, holding them tight against her. She peaked up at him through a curtain of dark hair, gaze massive and terrified.

The creaking of floorboards behind him made him jump, spinning around, gun raised and at the ready. There was no one there, but he swore that he saw a flash of movement through the crack of the door behind him. Rifle still raised, he inched towards it, chancing one quick glance back at where Luca, Matteo, and Rocco were advancing in front of him, heading towards a staircase at the end of the hall, checking inside each apartment as they went.

He pushed the door to the flat open with his fingertips, immediately replacing the hand on his rifle, steadying his aim, preparing to fire upon Shelby the first moment he saw him. 

Instead, he was met with a tiny woman crouched down on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest, head bent to bury her face in them. She had on a large dark coat, and he wondered if she had just gotten in when the shooting began.

A tad disappointed, but also distinctly relieved, at the lack of the man they were seeking, Frankie huffed, lowering his weapon and turning away. Luca had said that they were not to harm any civilians. 

He failed to see the blood from Vincenzo and Sal that was staining the woman’s hands, her face so properly hidden from him that he could not make out the splatter of red across one of her pale cheeks, the dark folds of her coat covering the crimson-slathered blade of a hunting knife laying by her feet.

Nor did he have time to process the greatness of the mistake he had made, as the second that he turned his back on the woman, she sprang up with near-paranormal, inhuman speed and silence, seized him from behind, and began to saw into his throat with her knife.

∗ ∗ ∗

Her hands were wet and sticky, the mixture of the Italian’s blood coating them almost entirely. It was mostly from the last two. The last one in particular, had made a considerable mess. 

Though to be fair, there was a good reason for that. 

She could feel blood sticking to her face and wetting her waistcoat and shirt. 

At least no one would ever be able to say that she was afraid to get her hands dirty. The coppery smell seemed to envelope her, familiar and metallic.

She flexed her fingers around the prize she had collected from the last one she’d killed. A little gift for Luca, should they manage to cross paths during this whole bloody affair.

He hadn’t seemed all that concerned that so many of his men had vanished. Too hyper-fixated on Tommy to think of anything else, she assumed. He would be regretting that soon enough.  

She heard a few horrified gasps from some of the tenants who saw what she had clenched in her hand as she passed by their doors, but for the most part, everyone remained silent, waiting with baited breath for the gangsters to leave.

Lucy paid them no mind as she moved to the stairs, taking them down towards the exit that led out onto the street. If Tommy had gone upstairs and then went out and down the fire escape, they should meet in approximately the same place. 

The sudden cacophony of shooting suddenly thundered from outside, the sound making her wince, fingers tightening around her knife, footsteps hastening down the stairs.  

∗ ∗ ∗

“Come on, me and you, Tommy,” Luca jeered, standing out in the middle of the street with his arms spread wide. “Come on.” His machine gun was empty, tossed haphazardly to the ground. He’d ordered Matteo to stand down. He waited with baited breath, watching hungrily as Shelby slowly emerged from his cover, stepping out, gun clutched in his right hand, footsteps loud as thunder as they slowly drew nearer. Luca felt the semblance of a smile emblazon itself upon his face as he stared down his enemy. This was it. 

This was what he had been waiting all this time for. 

He began to recite the prayer in his head, the one that he had always known would be the one he’d say just before putting a bullet in the face of the man who had stolen his father and brother from him. From his coat, he drew his gun. Shelby’s blue eyes stared at him intensely. He looked like a big cat or a wolf, prepared to pounce at any moment.

But Luca had shot wolves before. On a hunting trip with his father in the mountains in Italy.

He cocked the gun, eyes narrowing slightly, ready to move…

“Hey, Luca!” A voice suddenly shouted from his right. A voice that he recognized. And suddenly he could hear his mother whispering in his ear. 

“Wherever Thomas Shelby goes, the Red Demon is never far behind.”

She was walking towards him with purposeful, measured steps, black coat swirling around her legs, red curls dancing around her chin with every movement. She wore the cap of the Peaky Blinders atop her head, and when she turned her head just the right way, he could see the faint glint of the razors sewn into the brim. Blood was splattered across one of her cheeks, and there was something vicious and mad blazing in her green gaze. When she saw him looking at her, her face stretched into a wide grin. She held something dripping and grotesque up in her hand. 

“Is this yours?” she shouted, and threw it at him.

He stared, in open-mouthed horror, as Frankie’s head bounced and rolled across the pavement, settling at his feet face-up. Frankie’s eyes were open wide, staring up at him with his mouth slackened into a horrified O. As if begging for Luca to save him. 

He looked up, and the demon was standing there, grin widening, mad eyes electric with mirth.

A realization, violent and terrible, came crashing down upon him. 

She had been there the whole time, and they had not seen her. 

Where were the rest of his men? Probably splayed out in that apartment building, having suffered the same fate as poor Frankie. 

As poor Alessio, too. 

He had thought that it was those savages Shelby had hired from the mountains who had killed his cousin, but this suggested something else.

It had been her. Lucy Winters. The Red Demon. Thomas Shelby’s bitch, who had cleaved his cousin’s head from his shoulders.

His mother had been right. He had not listened to her warnings, but she had been right.

Everything, from Winters’s announcement of her presence to Luca’s earth shattering realization, happened within the span of about ten seconds. Behind him, Shelby had his arm raised, gun cocked and ready to fire at the back of his head. 

And then the police arrived. 

They began firing upon them almost immediately, rushing from their vans to swarm them Luca ducked. Shelby tried to fire at him a few times, but missed, and Luca cringed away against the onslaught of gunfire from the gangster and the police, turning heel and racing down the street with Matteo in tow. 

The police gave chase, but were easy to lose in the winding alleyways. The moment they were sure they’d lost them, he and Matteo leaned against the cool brick walls, panting. Luca bent over to clutch at his knees, staring at nothing as Matteo began to ramble off frantic questions that he did not really hear into his ear. 

Before arriving in Birmingham, Luca had made a list of potential problems and caveats that would need to be dealt with so that they could not impede his mission in enacting his vengeance on Tommy Shelby and his entire family.

The Jewish gang in London had been on the list. As had the Romani people with such close ties to Shelby that they were practically blood. And the people of Small Heath, who for some inconceivable reason, seemed to have developed some sort of fondness for Shelby and his gang. 

And now, Lucy Winters was at the top of that fucking list. 

∗ ∗ ∗

It took both her and Moss to pry away the three officers who had swarmed onto Tommy. Moss was furious, shouting at both Tommy and his men in equal measure. 

“There are three bodies that need cleaning up,” Tommy told him, still a little out of breath, reaching into his pocket and holding out a wad of bills.

“Nine,” Lucy corrected. They both looked at her with wide eyes. She shrugged. “I got six.”

Moss shook his head, cursing under his breath.

“Come on,” Tommy mumbled, indicating for her to follow him as Moss turned to bark more orders to the officers under his command. Why the fuck did they have to show up then? They’d had Luca. 

Neither of them said anything for most of the walk back to the Shelby’s house, Lucy digging around in her pocket for a handkerchief that she wiped her face and hands on. Tommy was sullen the whole walk, head down and lips set in a deep frown. 

“It’s not all bad,” Lucy tried to raise his spirits. “We didn’t get Luca, but we got a whole lot of his men. Enough to make a dent in his forces.”

He just grunted. She sighed, patting his arm.

Polly was waiting for them inside, a clove cigarette clutched between her fingers, lines of worry etched onto her face. There were several other finished black cigarettes already stubbed out in the ashtray. Clearly she had been smoking and pacing anxiously for a while. 

“You alright?” she asked them, taking a cautious step forward once they were inside. Tommy nodded, silently going to put his rifle away. Polly watched him go, then turned back to Lucy, eyes bugging a little out of her head at the sight of her bloodied shirt and waistcoat. “My God–”

“It’s not mine,” Lucy assured, waving her away. Tommy came back, collapsing in a chair, pulling a cigarette from his case. Lucy moved around to stand behind him, smoothing her fingers along his hair. “I need to go change. I’ll be right back.”

He nodded. Polly frowned. Lucy pecked the top of his head, squeezing his shoulder and darting upstairs to their room, stripping out of her bloodied clothes and into some fresh, clean ones, taking a detour to the washroom to make sure she’d gotten all of the blood off of her face and hands. 

By the time she came downstairs, she could hear the rumble of engines as the rest of the family pulled up outside. Charlie was playing in the sitting room, while they all gathered in the kitchen. 

She sat down in the chair in front of where Tommy stood, twitching with her rings and smoking, not saying much at all as he debriefed with the other family members. The adrenaline was finally starting to leave her system, leaving her to feel jittery. 

“Look, I didn’t get Luca, but I got three. All right? Lucy got six. That’s it. That’s what happened,” Tommy explained.

Johnny Dogs whistled. “Six, eh, Winters? You’re giving all of us a run for our money.”

She smiled slightly, still fiddling with her hands, shrugging bashfully. “I got lucky.”

There were footsteps behind them, as Charlie bounded into the doorway. Tommy scooped him up, hoisting him to rest on his hip. Soon, everyone was rising from their seats, Arthur insisting that she and Tommy come with them for a drink. She raised from her chair, shaking out her hands, giving little Charlie a soft smile and a gentle ruffle to his blonde hair. 

“You owe me lunch,” she mumbled into Tommy’s ear as they made for the door. He looked at her with a raised brow, head cocking while his lips quirked as he remembered their agreement from before the ambush. 

“Mm. I suppose I do, don’t I?”

She giggled, and placed a kiss to his cheek. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Tommy watched Lucy shield a yawn with her hand, squinting at the print on the paper she was reading. Dark circles had appeared under her eyes since they’d returned to the office, and he could recognize the telltale unsteadiness that so often settled in after a situation like the one they’d found themselves in earlier that day.

Shifting in his chair, he glanced over at the pictures on his desk, eyes settling on the ones of Grace. One was just of her by herself, a professional photo taken during her days working as an operative, and the other from not long before her death, baby Charlie settled in her lap. 

Tommy looked away, gaze focused up on the ceiling miserably. God; what she would have thought of them…

He stood suddenly, well aware that if he continued to just sit there and stew in his own thoughts, he would drown in them. 

“Why don’t you go ahead and head home?” he suggested, hand landing on Lucy’s shoulder. She looked up at him quizzically. 

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I won’t be long. I promise.”

She considered, then nodded. “Okay.” She must have been even more tired than he thought. He took the papers from her, tossing them over onto the desk while she went and got her coat. He followed her to the door, Lucy turning and giving him a quick kiss.

“I’ll see you soon.”

He nodded. “Less than an hour.” Really, all he needed to do was put everything away and lock up for the evening. She gave his arms a strong squeeze, and ducked out the door, mumbling a soft goodbye to Lizzie who was still at her desk.

Tommy busied himself tucking things away and tidying his desk, before going to the shelf of liquor that he kept, pulling out a cigarette and fumbling with a glass. He’d have one last drink, lock everything up, and go home to Lucy and Charlie. It would feel good to just lay in bed with Lucy on his chest, listening to her breathing while she slept, his fingers carding delicately through her soft red hair. 

The door opened, and Lizzie stepped in. He glanced back at her, then again to the decanters of alcohol. 

“Want a drink, Lizzie? I’ve had a hard day.”

He heard the door click shut behind her when she leaned her back against it. While he had been keeping his distance since the whole incident between her and May, he still tried to be kind and respectful towards her. She was part of the family, after all.

“I don’t drink whiskey or gin anymore, Tom,” Lizzie said after a long pause.

“Why not?” he asked, pouring a glass for himself.

And then she dropped seven little words that carried with them the promise of yanking his entire world completely off its axis:

“Because they say it harms the baby.”

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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[ilmietitore]

"Ciao, we're here for a health and welfare for Ciprianni."

Welcome to my ask blog for mah bastards, Matteo Schiavoni, Elian Rivera, and Jamie Schmicht, I'm your host, H :3c

Here be some ground rules:

All asks will be drawn out!!!

We're all a-okay with anything pertaining to violence & gore, suggstive stuff is cool, but keep Tumblr's policies in mind when asking! No penises, sorry :(

On that topic, I'm comfortable with depicting most things, just nothing involving the bodily harm of children.

Please don't spam.

Racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, and anything of the sorts is not tolerated, your butt will be blocked.

Dm's are 1-800-Closed.

Asks that are 1 word or nonsensical will be passed on.

Some factoids about Schia:

He's 47 and 6'4"

Goes by Matteo or Schia

He/Him, Cisgender, and Unlabled

He's very blunt, charismatic, and sadistic

He's Italian and bilingual in English and Italian

Fronts as a "businessman", but works as a hitman for the Mafia

He and Angus Ciprianni are business partners and partners in crime (and in toxic yaoi lol)

Elian Rivera is his current underling

He is married to a Lucia Schiavoni (she may make an appearance or two) and they have a young daughter, Emilia Schiavoni (may make some appearances too)

His text will be yellow

Some factioids about Rivera:

She's 28 and 5'10

Goes by Rivera

She/He, Nonbinary, and Lesbian

She is smug, hardheaded, and immoral

She is Mexican and bilingual in Spanish and English

Also a "businessman", is a newly mademan and is working under Schiavoni.

May or may not be living a second life... the men mey never know...

Her text will be red

Some factoids about Jamie:

He's 34 and 6'

Goes by Jamie

He/Him, Cisgender, and Asexual

He is quiet, calculated, self-reserved

He is African American and trilingual in English, Italian, and German

You guessed it, a "businessman", designated sniper and intel collector for the mafia. Also sells organs on the black market for dopples.

Works for himself for the most part, but does work along side Schiavoni and Ciprianni. Is also teaching Rivera under the table (fun with organs lol)

His text will be green

And some factoids for yours truly:

Name's H

21 and 2 nickels tall

Main blog is @double--hh

I use All/Any pronouns

Timezone is EST

I have a full-time job (im not a businessman I swear), please be patient with the response times </3

My text will be pink

So yeah, have fun pookies <3

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Shun the Light - Ch 13 - The Talk

Slow Burn | Refuge | Decision | Mend | Hunger | Thin Mints | The Garden | Philip | Moments | Full Moon pt 1 | Full Moon pt 2 | Tend | Absolution |

Author's Notes: Just some long overdue conversation~

Content Warnings: werewolf whumpee, vampire caretaker, sprained ankle, recovery, emotional whump

----

One step at a time.

Matteo clings to the railing with both hands. He lowers his good leg first, then follows with his sprained one. His body protests each and every movement, but he persists, intent on reaching the living room. A record is playing low and Dante will be there, reading or drawing or some other hobby.

"Almost there...Almost there..."

"What do you think you're doing?"

He looks up to find Dante standing in the foyer with his hands on his hips. Matteo sighs and sits down on one of the steps.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I can't spend another minute in that bed. I needed a change of scenery."

And some company would be nice.

"You could have called for help. Did you at least take your medicine first?"

"What are you, my mother? Yes, I took it."

Dante gives in and goes to help him up. They make it to the living room without incident, where Dante eases Matteo into a recliner.

"Thank you," Matteo says quietly. He never wants to take the care he's been given for granted.

Once Dante has him settled he goes to the record player and turns the album over. He resets the needle and gentle instrumental music begins to play.

"All of the records are Mr. Townsend's," he says, motioning to a full shelf. "I never got to get my music...or any of my things."

Matteo relaxes into the chair and watches Dante return his spot on the couch and pick up a shirt he is in the process of mending.

"I get that. I didn't take much with me when I left home. And what I did bring I lost during a transformation."

"So...you left home because this happened to you."

"Yeah," Matteo admits quietly. It still hurts to think about. "On my first full moon the wolf wrecked my apartment. I got lucky that the tenant on the lower floor was away that week or god knows what might have happened. After that, I left the landlord most of my money for the damages, sent a letter telling my family I was traveling, and got out. Never looked back."

Dante hardly reacts, but there is a deep sadness growing in his eyes like gathering storm clouds.

"And the one who turned you," he asks carefully, "was it the boyfriend you told me about?"

"Yeah, the bastard. He must have known something would happen - he asked to stay over on the full moon. I never found out why, or why me. Maybe he wanted to kill me, maybe he wanted a...a mate or something." He makes a face at the thought.

Dante silently takes it all in while still working the needle in and out of fabric in a steady motion that's as relaxing to Matteo as the music.

"When it happens," Dante asks after a while, "you don't have any control?"

He sighs. "No. It's like I go to sleep and the wolf takes over. I don't remember a thing the next day - I just wake up with the consequences of whatever it did."

"Like jumping out of a third story window?"

"...no. That was all me."

Dante abruptly stops sewing and turns to stare at him.

"You were right there," Matteo tries to explain. "Another minute and it might have attacked you. I had to do something."

Dante slowly puts the shirt aside and gives Matteo his full attention. "You were protecting me?"

"Well, yeah. You let me stay here. Gave me food. You've been really good to me. I couldn't just let it rip your throat out."

"So you..." Dante almost laughs. "Wow. That was..."

"Stupid?"

"Brave."

Oh.

Matteo blames his post-moon hangover for the stinging in his eyes.

The two fall into a thick but comfortable silence, both reflecting on the things they have said and heard. Dante resumes his sewing and Matteo rests.

By the time Dante speaks again, the final song on the record is fading.

"The house has a fallout shelter. Maybe you can use it next time."

Matteo's heart skips a beat.

"Next time?"

"If you want to stay that long, of course. You can do whatever you want."

The offer is only for him to stay another month, but it's so much more than Matteo dared to hope for.

It takes him a moment to find his voice.

"Okay. Yeah. Yeah, it's worth a shot, right?"

Dante doesn't reply, doesn't look over. If Matteo wasn't watching him so intently he might miss the hint of a smile. But before it can fully take shape, Dante is up and crossing the room to change the record, and the moment is gone.

[trippinsorrows]

do you plan to write at least up to the point of where roman goes to mexico to find soso

oh yeah! it's gonna be like oneshots, most likely in chronological order. so far, what i have planned to write/show is:

the first meeting between solana, roman, and matteo

first "date" between roman and solana (decided she's going to keep this thing with her and roman and matteo a secret cause i couldn't justify bayley knowing what's going on and being okay with it. she's definitely going to be like, "stay away from them. they're no good.")

more scenes with roman and solana just cause i'm biased asf

scenes showing the tension building between roman and matteo, as roman's feelings become genuine and matteo gets jealous

roman and solana first time i.e. where she loses her virginity to him

matteo realizing solana loves roman (and vice versa), thus her never choosing him, and matteo telling her the truth to break up roso

solana confronting roman and telling him she hates him and that he's dead to her/her leaving to mexico

still trying to work out if i want him to be like "fuck it, i can't live without her" after trying to let her go because he knows he really fucked up, and going to mexico or someone tips him off that solana is pregnant, thus him being like 'fuck space' to see if she's really pregnant with his baby

the absolutely clusterfuck that happens when roman shows up at her family's house to see her and it's revealed he's the father, because i'm going to have her keep it a secret from her family (she said it was just a one night stand)

and that's going to be a mess because both xavier and wes are going to be livid.

"she's 24 years old! you're almost 40. you fucking took advantage of her, you bastard!"

a mess.

[azrielover]

Skyfall : “Hello”

This is an OC x azriel story which will come in bits and pieces, meaning you could probably read each part as a one-shot in any order! Each part of the “skyfall” series will have one of these mood board covers which gives the “vibe” of the chapter 🫶🏼 I am judging the timeline of the story based on if the year 0 represents the end of the first human wars which are noted in the acotar series! Therefore BCE stands for “before current era” and CE is “current era”.

| Summary: Noelle, the adopted daughter of the Illyrian Lord of Vornhale, discovers a family secret while sneaking around the manor.

| Warnings: child abuse and domestic violence (alluded to and near the beginning)

| Word Count: 2k

| Skyfall Masterlist: click here!

33BCE:

“Why do you never listen insolent girl?” her governess spat, sharp fingernails dug into Noelle’s pale arm as she was dragged further and further away from the falling snow outside. She could still just make out the figures of her elder brothers, Kraven and Matteo, play-fighting through the frosted window, their dark features standing out against the snow dancing around them as the circled each other, wings glowing as the setting rays of sun shone through the membrane. Scrambling to find purchase along the stone walls of her Vornhale manor, the five year old continued to thrash in the older Illyrians hold.

“Please Mistress Cordelia,” she begged, boots kicking at the stone floor as they reached the stair case which led to the manor’s sleeping quarters and the study of the Illyrian Lord of Vornhale, her father. As a very traditional, respected male within the settlement, Tobias Blackwell took his position as “Lord” with the upmost seriousness. Although he was not her real father, he and his wife Thera had taken Noelle in as a newborn, raising her as their own after her mother had died in childbirth and her father was never identified. Thera had been being longtime friends with Noelle’s late mother, and with a yearning for a daughter of her own after two boys, taking her in was an easy decision to make.

Reaching the top of the dark stone steps in a much calmer manner in which their showdown began, Noelle, ever the antagonist, muttered, “Stupid hag”. Her governess froze and stared for a moment then promptly grasped a fistful of Noelle’s hair, white locks tangled in the firm grip of the weathered female’s hand and promptly began to be dragged through the halls.

“Let go! Let go!” she begged, body jerking as her white Illyrian wings grazed the floor, “I’ll walk to my room myself please Cordi, oh please.” Her feet shuffled clumsily in an attempt to keep up with the fast pace she was being pulled along at, wincing as her hair was tugged relentlessly.

“Deciful child,” Cordelia seethed, “No supper for you tonight, and Lord Tobias will be informed of this beastly behaviour,” Noelle whimpered at her words, “You have no right to act this way”, she went on “after you were blessed by the cauldron to be housed with the Lord and Lady of this house.”

Her room was fast approaching, the guards, glacing at her as she passed by, beginning to light the torches along the halls as the day shifted to night, “Do you know how many Illyrian children would kill to be in your position?” she continued, still walking, “A bastard, orphaned girl with nothing to her name being bestowed with riches, food and protection at her beck and call.” A look of disdain crossed her tanned face as they made their way inside the room, “You, child, are undeserving of the mother’s blessing. Stay here until morning. Do not leave.” Turning on her heels, she walked out and slammed the door behind her.

Huffing in admission, Noelle reached up to gently touch her tender scalp, flinching away as she made contact. Focusing on the kernel of light inside of her, she closed her eyes and rested her palm atop her pale blonde hair once more. Glowing light seeped from the tips of her fingers and weaved it’s way along the parts which still hurt, dissapearing into her skin where the pain quickly began to fade, faster than her fae healing could by hours.

Sighing glumly and rolling her eyes, Noelle stalked to the head of her large bed and rested her small hand on a mismatched coloured piece of stone which only just stood out against the rest of the wall. Pushing the stone forward with some effort, a mechanism inside the wall of her bedroom clicked and a hidden door way appeared before her, she quickly entered before it shut behind her. She didn’t like to resort to leaving her room this way as it always made things much more difficult, but it seemed as though she was out of options if she wanted to play in first snow of the winter season before morning came.

Noelle was a stubborn child and found it completely unfair how her adoptive brothers were allowed to enjoy extra play time and she was deigned to be stuck looking down at them from her bedroom window woefully. Having discovered this hidden passage way a few months beforehand, it quickly became her most harboured secret. She was sure no one in the manor knew of it’s existence and Noelle intended to keep it that way, it was very useful and this was her room afterall.

It was pitch black as she followed the dark path down a winding staircase. As no one knew of the passages existence, there was no servants to light the torches along it, and Noelle herself was much to small to reach and light them herself. So instead she rested both hands upon the walls on either side of her, tucked in her wings tightly so they wouldn’t graze the stone, and slowly made her way down. The walls were cold under her touch, and slightly slimy with something she tried not to think too hard about what it could be.

She had never been down the passage after sunset. Usually pockets of light shone through cracks in the walls, but today no such light was given. She had already pushed her own magic by healing herself earlier, so producing any light herself was out of the question.

Noelle began thinking of the many snow angels she planned to make once she got outside, giggling quietly to herself as she remembered Matteo’s sorry attempt at his own, which ended up looking more like a blob than an Illyrian boy. He tried to hit her after she had laughed at him but she had doged him like always. That was when she had been called inside by her governess and Matteo had scampered off to join Kraven like nothing had happened.

The wall began to grow more frosted under her touch, and the stairway downward began to flatten, signifying she had made it to ground level. She ran her fingers along the stone as she strived along, knowing she would soon be out in the fresh winter chill, yet as she walked, she suddenly felt metal and wood on her left. Stopping out of curiosity, she turned to her side and felt about still cloaked in darkness, managing to make out a the shape of a door, a cold, metal knob and a big key hole she managed to stick her finger through and wiggle around. She had not come across this door before in her secret adventures through the passage.

A tug in her chest pulled her closer to the wooden door in front of her, and the urge to continue in that direction became so overwhelming strong, Noelle decided it would be rude to ignore it. Fumbeling around for the door knob again, she twisted it slightly, and to her surprise it opened up into yet another corridor, yet at least this one was lined brightly with torches. Staring opened eyed for a short while at her discovery, the small girl grinned and followed along, forgetting all about the snow outside.

It was the screams that gave away what this place was to Noelle first, the next was the constant sound of dripping water, but the last was the rats which scurried along in front of her dress. Jumping back in horror as a small squeak escaped her, she grimaced. This was her father’s dungeon. She had been forbidden here as it was “no place for a girl”, but she wasn’t afraid. Yet. Nodding to herself in determination, brow furrowing, fists closing tightly, she marched on following the invisible thread which tugged her though.

As she ventured on, less torches had been lit and she felt a sense of real unease for the first time, speeding up slightly in hopes she could out run whatever it was which unnerved her, until finally she was stood in front of a small cell. The cell was only about double her own height and was barred with thick metal. There was a small window, also barred, at the top left side which blew in frost and ice cold winds which explained the intense cold she now felt. Due to it’s size, she doubted that even during the day time this cell would see much light at all.

She was about to head back when a small twitch of movement caught her eye. A small boy was staring right at her, his striking hazel eyes pierced right through her violet ones and his dark hair reminded her of her brother’s, except the child infront of her looked much less groomed, dirt was raked through the matted strands and smeared across his face and body. His supposedly tanned skin seemed sickly pale and the wings she could see protruding from his back were stiff and smaller than should be normal for an Illyrian at his stature. He couldn’t be older than she was.

Noelle approached the bars to the cell, hands finding purchase on two of the poles as she leaned her small face to fit through the space. “Hello”, she whispered cautiously, “I’m Noelle, my father is the Lord of this manor, who are you?”. The boy only stared back at her quietly, observing her and pressing himself further into the wall behind him as he crouched in on himself for warmth.

Noelle glanced to the small window once more and pursed her lips, huffing slightly, “Are you cold?” Silence from the boy across from her again. Stepping away from the cell, she nodded to herself, trying to figure out how in the name of the mother herself a little boy had come to find himself in the dungeons underneath her home.

“Well then,” she started diplomatically, clasping her hands behind her back as she began to pace up and down the front of the boy’s cell, holding eye contact, “You can’t have been here for long. I think I would know if a little Illyrian boy such as yourself has been living in my manor for the past five yea-”

“Four” the boy replied so quietly, Noelle would have missed it if she were not half fae herself, “what?” She stopped and watched as he shifted himself against the wall again, as if in pain. “Azriel,” he pointed to himself with a slender fingers, “is four.”

“Oh,” Noelle breathed, “so you can talk.” The boy, Azriel, nodded once sharply, face grim.

She smiled lightly at him, “I’ve never met anyone younger than me before, what in the cauldron are you doing down here anyways?” Azriel only narrowed his eyes at her, angling his head slightly upwards, the shadows bending around him so well she could hardly see his body. Her eyes caught on the rusted keyhole of the cell door, “you must not get out very often,” she whispered cautiously, Azriel stayed silent as she continued, “have you.. ever been out?” The boy shook his head “no” in a small movement. Noelle hummed in contemplation, “Well, this must be some sort of mistake, my father would never keep a child locked up in here lik-,”

“My father,” the boy’s voice sounded again, notably more confidently this time, “is Lord. Is Tobias.”

Noelle shook her head with a laugh of exasperation, “No silly, father has only 2 sons, Kraven and Matteo.” At the sound of her brother’s names Azriel cringed and she could physically see him close off again.

“You’ve met them.” she said, not a question. A nod. More confused than ever the five year old half Illyrian, half fae child continued her pacing as her thoughts raced. This changed the perception of everything for the youngling, she knew her father had a tendency to be cruel but this? The sound of chattering guards sounded getting closer, startling her into action. Looking back at the boy again, Noelle had made up her mind.

“Ok Azriel,” his name rolled smoothly off her tongue, “I will come back and visit again soon,” Azriel just stared at her, still wary, “I promise.” She dipped her head in goodbye and raced off towards the passage which would lead her back to her bedroom before she was caught.

Maybe Azriel could be her new secret.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That’s the first part done, hope you enjoyed! This is only the beginnings of Azriel and Noelle, their story definitely gets more interesting and will go right through from where we are now till present time in the acotar series!

Thanks for reading ❤️❤️

[knowledge-paradox]

Lore ramble about the Tusco family

this is mainly about Giovanni Tusco, Matteo and Marinella's father.

We go back to the year 1727, when the firstborn child of the Tusco’s was born, his name is Giovanni Pietro Tusco, second name belonging to his father.

Giova grows as a golden child, oldest and wonderful kid of the family, fast studier and even quicker learner, always at his father's request.

He grows up surrounded by two siblings, his lovely sister Lucia —who marries young arranged with a Spanish banker— and his younger brother Andrea, who was close to his brother like no one was.

The family was a perfect picture, the oldest into the family following a good career in law, the lady married to a rich man and the youngest boy serving the army in London, a core place for the family's history.

or at least it looked like a perfect picture.

1752. Two children are in the family picture already, and Giova meets a wonderful lady back in Italy.

Giova's father agrees to marriage, but the lady is not keen on it, she's not ready she would say.

They wait a year, meanwhile Andrea gets hanged for treason.

Giovanni goes into a mourning state, this time being the one who refuses marriage. Then he finds out that his fiance is pregnant. She fights to keep the child, the two losing Giova's father's support, claiming the kid as a bastard.

The kid is born in 1754 and they name him Matteo.

Peace time ensures, Giova finally is over his grieving and the two raise their dear firstborn child, but doesn't last long as Matteo's mother gets sick.

It's 1757 when Giova's partner dies of influenza and the man is alone once again.

In the same year he meets a German lady from New York, and even though he doesn't feel like it would make his mental state any better he asks his father's permission to marry her. The father denies it. He won't let his son marry a woman of such low standards and go with her overseas, it was out of the question.

Too bad for his father, Giova wouldn't accept no as an answer anymore.

Two weeks later at a family meeting, Giova's father dies of poisoning. Lucia declares it might have been an allergic reaction, she knows it's a lie.

Giova does not come to his father's funeral, he instead prepares everything and sails overseas to america with his wife.

Then in 1758 Marinella is born, but Giova doesn't really care, he's too busy taking care of his son, an exact copy of himself who he needs to make sure he'll grow up as a better version than him.

When his mother finds out that Giova has gotten a second child she decides to pay a visit, she was declared missing later.

The two kids grow up not knowing anything about their grandparents nor their father's background until his death. Then the war starts, and Matteo fights for what his father considered the enemy.

After the war, blood still in his hands, Matteo decided to write to his aunt, and although she never replied back before, when Matteo asks about his father a reply is quick to arrive two weeks later.

Lucia Grazia Tusco, Sister of Giovanni Tusco and mother of a now dead son, declares her brother was a monster.

And Matteo realizes he didn't grow up too far from what his father was.

[wailingbones]

it wasn't odd , by now , to find dakota at the moretti home even when no one was there maybe more so now that things didn't seem so casual between himself and gabriel at the moment . what was odd was the idea of someone knocking on the door . anyone that was close to the morettis would have just walked in and if it was kieran or matteo , they wouldn't have bothered knocking . dakota half thought about ignoring it before blowing out a sigh as he pushed himself up to get the door , brows furrowing at the person across from him . @ladyviscera

" mister meeks , " dakota spoke . " didn't realize you and gabriel were friends . " he knew they weren't . gabe may have been cordial and charming to most people but friends wasn't the case here .

" i'm not here for gabriel , " he spoke . " wanted to speak to you . saw your car when i was driving by . " dakota noticed how tired the man appeared . the red in his eyes . the bags . god , randy being missing was really taking a toll on the sorry bastard .

he had half the mind to refuse or to step outside but decided against it as he stepped out of the way for the man to come inside before moving toward the kitchen . " what about ? " he asked before pausing . " sorry about randy , by the way . hopefully he comes home . "

the man's footsteps were slow as he followed behind dakota . " what i wanted to talk to you about , actually . " he paused in speaking , watching as dakota turned to face him . he almost wanted to laugh when he opened his mouth . he was sure dakota was going to try and deny it . " you were with him that night . "

" no , " dakota spoke with a shake of his head as he crossed his arms over his head . " saw him very briefly before i left . "

dakota's eyes narrowed when mister meeks seemed to offer a laugh in return but there was no real humor to his voice as he took his phone out of his pocket . he watched in mild confusion as the older man clicked a few buttons before he heard it . the struggle . randy begging for his life . dakota hadn't thought twice about seeing randy's phone on the ground before putting it back on his body before sinking him in the lake . he had just assumed it dropped out of his pocket . he never once thought that a call could have gone through .

" didn't realize i missed his call until today , " mister meeks spoke . " you were with him . " he stepped forward forcing dakota to step back , cornered against the kitchen counter . " where is he ? "

for a moment , maybe dakota looked concerned , or sorrowful , but the emotion was quick to wipe away from his face . " in the bottom of a river . probably isn't very recognizable . " he tilted his head . he knew the man thought he had his smoking gun with the voicemail and maybe randy said his name but he could have said something mistakable for dakota's name . " before you ask , no . i don't feel sorry . your piece of shit son deserved every fucking minute -- "

the man had lunged , dropping his phone in the process . gripping dakota's shirt and slamming him back against the counter before bringing him to the floor , knocking over kitchen utensils in the process . dakota scrambled , or tried to , but the man's grip on his shirt was tight , forcing his back off the floor before slamming him down almost hard enough to knock the wind out of him .

" all randy wanted , " mister meeks hissed , " was friends . all he wanted was -- "

something more .

something he could take .

the man hit him .

" and you took him away , " mister meeks breathed . " you took him . " he forced dakota up again before slamming him back against the floor . dakota's ears rung , vision almost hazy as he attempted to get out from underneath the older man before strong hands wrapped around dakota's throat , squeezing tightly .

it was the first time , in a long time , that dakota felt real panic . real fear . he wasn't as calm and collected as before , fighting like hell , almost wildly to get the man off , hand reaching for something , anything that he could use .

[hee-blee-art]

matteo & tiernan's daughter, aine <3

[ID: a page of digital drawings and three detail crops featuring aine, a young girl with tan skin, freckles, and curly red hair, dressed in various dresses; and tiernan, a tall fat vampire with medium brown skin, dark locs to her shoulders, thick eyebrows, and pointed teeth, dressed in various collared shirts. aine is shown standing, leaning, and putting on her boots in different dresses, each covered in dirt.

the first crop shows tiernan braiding aine's hair as she asks, "is my hair gonna look like yours?" tiernan replies, "hmhm, not quite, a stór, now keep still just a tad longer, yeah?" aine then says, "well make it look as pretty as yours, ok?" and tiernan says "of course."

the second crop shows aine looking annoyed as she sits at a table with a label that says "(during a history lesson)", saying, "why should I follow some dumb old king's rules? he doesn't even know me. he can't tell me what to do."

the third crop continues with tiernan ruffling aine's hair and saying, "that's right, darlin', the monarchy's just a bunch of bastards." out of frame, tiernan's husband matteo shouts, "tiernan! language." and tiernan says, "I'm teachin' her about the royals!" matteo replies, "oh! nevermind." end ID]

[matteo-dambrosio]

“I’ve held it together but a night like this, is begging for me to fall apart.” - Unknown

December 12th, 2023

“Where have you been?! It’s been weeks, Matteo, with not a word from you!”

The elder, Italian woman was screaming the moment her son walked through the threshold of the home they shared together. There was a mixture of relief and anger in her eyes, her hands gripping onto the fabric of his coat while Matteo attempted to set his luggage on the ground.

Matteo remained silent, enveloping his mother into his arms and holding her close. Her screaming ended, burying her face into his chest as she cried. “I thought you had died when you didn’t call home,” she said in a shaky whisper.

A part of me did, he wanted to say but he remained silent, his hand rubbing his mother’s back to calm her.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say.

As the days passed, his mother and father began to see the change in their son. Matteo hardly ate and remained locked in his own room, isolated and alone. He would only leave the house for work, returning late into the evening.

It was Friday night and Matteo lay in his bed. His phone propped against his chest, wordlessly scrolling through the few photos they had taken with their son. He had looked at them so many times, he had his son’s face memorized down to the smallest freckle.

Hastily wiping away the fallen tear, he sat up abruptly when he heard the handle move. “What?”

The hard knocking came immediately after. “Matteo, open the door. Your father and I would like to speak with you,” she said.

Matteo exhaled a slow, controlled breath and locked his phone, tossing it on the bed while he walked to the door. He unlocked the bedroom door, opening it and retreating to his bed. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to. His father spoke first.

“What has been going on? We can tell there’s just something you’re not telling us so what is it?” his father asked, staring at his son’s face though Matteo didn’t look at him.

Matteo’s jaw tightened, staring at the floor. He took a hand and raked his fingers through his hair. “I have a girlfriend…” he started to say but was immediately cut off by his mother.

“I knew it! Didn’t I tell you? It’s the reason he’s been so secretive,” said his mother to her spouse. “Well, where is she? Do we know her family? Please tell me it’s that girl from church.”

A hollow laugh escaped Matteo. He felt so empty, so broken. “She’s from Greece. Santorini, all her family lives here. It’s where I’ve been,” he explained, seeing his father’s fingers curl into a fist as he said this. “And we have a son.”

The final words Matteo spoke were enough to cause his mother to step forward. Her hand came across his face, the sound of the slap piercing the silence.

Matteo said nothing more, only feeling the skin on his cheek sting from the blow his mother had given him. The room was filled with screaming. Vile, cruel words were hurled at Matteo. Disgrace to the family. Dishonor. Bastard child.

Matteo rose to his feet at the mention of his son. “Don’t you ever speak ill of him again,” he threatened, his tone cold as he addressed his father. His eyes bore into his.

“Leave this house. You’re no longer a part of this family,” spat his father, his mother crying against her husband.

Matteo took a step back so he could collect the luggage he didn’t bother to unpack. “A good father would have never said those words to his son. I know this because I would have never said any of this to Alessandro, no matter what situation he’d find himself in. Never,” Matteo said, moving past his parents without a backwards glance. He held his head up as he left the house, leaving his parents in their despair.

He texted Ava once he arrived at the airport. “I’m on my way home. I’ll see you soon, amore,” was all he said before pocketing the phone and heading towards his gate.

[obsessedwithceleste]

Lessons in Love

(Or why Enzo should be banned from advanced potion making)

Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw Reader

Summary: Ft. Enzo being bad at potions, the Ravenclaw common room door, and more than one accidental love confession.

word count: 3.3k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

A deep sigh escapes your lips as you walk purposefully through the empty halls of the castle. You loved Enzo. Really, you did. But how that bastard had managed to squeeze enough O.W.Ls out of his arse to get into advanced potion making was absolutely beyond you.

It’s not that you thought your childhood best friend was dumb per se. You simply thought his talents lay elsewhere. Like in herbology. Or anywhere really where adding a pinch too much powdered moonstone didn’t result in a glittery pink potion exploding all over the front of your robes. This never would have happened of course, if your usual, equally talented, potions partner, Theodore Nott, had actually bothered to show up, but god only knew where that boy had wandered off to.

Walking into classes earlier that day you had been giddy with excitement. While potions may not have been Enzo’s forte, it was most definitely yours and advanced potions was finally giving you the challenge you had been craving. Amortentia, your professor had said, is the strongest love potion in the world, thereby making it exceptionally difficult to brew. You already knew this of course as it had all been detailed in the days readings. Not only would it make someone obsessively in love, but it also had an addictive scent, changing to fit what one was most attracted to. Now that was all well and good until one was covered in it.

Originally, you figured that all would be fine. Enzo profusely apologized, quickly following up with a joke about how “at least you’ll smell nice for once.” But oh how right he’d been. It started with students accidentally bumping into you in the corridor as you went from class to class as they subconsciously leaned in to follow the alluring scent. A minor inconvenience you thought. (Although you did have to choose to ignore that third year almost getting impaled on a statue’s sword because he wasn’t paying attention after you passed.)

But then Cho and Marietta couldn’t stop leaning in to get a whiff of the scent all throughout the start of charms, causing Flitwick to continuously shoot concerned glances at the three of you. You eventually caved, moving quickly and silently to the back of the class room where Enzo was sat with the rest of the Slytherins. As soon as he saw you making your way over, he leaned over, whispering something in Daphne’s ear beside him. She gives you a quick look of knowing pity before moving into the empty seats usually claimed by Theodore and Matteo who were, unsurprisingly, still no where to be found.

“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry,” Enzo mumbles, at least having the decency to look embarrassed as you plop into the seat beside him.

“This is horrible! I did not need to know that Marietta’s amortentia smells like bloody Cormac McLaggen or whatever his name is,” you hiss in response.

Enzo lets out a quiet chuckle, sneaking a quick glance at your house mate.

“Hey,” he whispers after a moment, “What do you smell anyway? You must be going mad having that stuff all over you.”

You shoot a glare at your friend. You had a sinking feeling he already knew, considering he had been poking fun at you for weeks. You shudder remembering all those disgusting kissy faces Enzo had been making at you from across the library just last week. Bloody bastard was fishing for confirmation. Maybe if you ignore him, he’ll simply go away you think to yourself. Enzo however, takes your silence as an admission of guilt, a grin spreading across his face.

“I knew it. So tell me y/n, what does dear Theodore Nott smell like? Cigarette smoke? Hippogriff dung?” He snickers.

“He is my best friend, Lorenzo,” you whisper, giving the boy beside you another withering glare.

Enzo’s face falls at this.

“I’m your best friend.” He grumbles.

“I don’t know why. You’re mean to me,” you reply with exasperation.

He immediately perks up again at this, giving you a slight nudge.

“So I’m right? You do like Theo?” He asks excitedly.

“Enzo, I will avada you, and make it look like an accident,” you hiss in response.

“Come on, y/n, I’m your best friend, you have to tell me these things,” he pouts.

“Oh really? Like how you have to tell me about how you’re probably smelling Daphne’s shampoo right now? Or is it her lavender perfume?” You ask innocently, batting your lashes.

Enzo goes beet red at this, gesturing wildly at you to lower your voice.

“Hush woman! She’s right there!” He hisses.

You say nothing, only giving him a triumphant grin before turning back to Flitwick to try to salvage what few notes you’d been able to take down that lesson.

The final straw occurred during ancient runes when poor, unsuspecting Hermione sat down behind you and asked with a look of bewilderment if you had been showered with Draco’s cologne that morning. Her look of absolute horror only grew as you told her of your distressing situation. You thought she might faint when she realized that Draco had been within earshot and now had a shit eating grin on his face. With a sigh of defeat, you give Hermione an apologetic smile before deciding it was time to turn in the white flag of defeat.

You breathe a heavy sigh of relief as you finally come to a stop outside your common room door. You then frown, realizing you had in fact, made it to your common room door.

“What makes a raven like a writing desk?” The metallic voice of the Ravenclaw common room door asks, springing to life.

This putrid, skanky little-

“You wouldn’t want me to shove either of them up your ars-“

A low whistle catches your attention before you’re able to finish cursing out your common room’s door thoroughly.

“Whoa there feisty, let the eagle be,” Theo’s voice laughs as he steps into view.

The strong scent of roasted coffee beans and smoke that had been burning your nostrils all day hits you once again like a ton of bricks. Giving the eagle another withering glare, you turn your full attention to the looming threat approaching. You would sooner throw yourself off of the astronomy tower than let Theo know that your amortentia smelled like him. Someone had to keep the boy’s bloody ego in check.

“Full offense Theodore, I’ve had a horrendously awful day today, and I really don’t have time for whatever nonsense you’re about to start.” You say with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms at the boy in front of you.

Theo laughs again, mirroring your movements as he leans against one of the pillars lining the halls.

“Poor principessa. Have a hard day in classes without me?” He asks with a smirk.

You scowl in response. It didn’t help that you had, in fact, missed the brunette’s comforting, albeit annoying, presence all day, but you weren’t about to admit that.

“Now that you mention it, I didn’t even realize you were missing. What snake hole did you slither off to today?” You ask, the lie sliding easily off your lips.

Theo cocks as eyebrow at that but leaves it be.

“Matteo wanted to ditch, had to baby sit. Make sure he didn’t get into too much trouble. You know how it goes,” Theo replied shrugging his shoulders. “And what’s a pretty little witch like yourself doing skiving off class?”

Theo takes another step forward.

“Don’t come closer!” You yelp before you can stop yourself. You had no interest knowing what Theo would smell if he got close enough. He frowns at you however.

“And why not?” He challenges, taking another step towards you. This boy really did not take well to being told what to do.

“I- I smell. Really bad. Had to leave class, I just- ya know, smelled, so bad” You splutter, mentally kicking yourself. Who says that in front of the guy they like? Why were you like this?

Theo’s thick brows shoot up at your declaration before he takes a final large step towards you and leans in, pressing his hand against your forehead before moving it down to feel your cheek.

“Y/n are you ill? Do you need to go see Madam Pomfrey? I can walk you there if you’d like.” He says, any bit of snark his voice previously held long gone.

“I’m fine Theodore, really.” you say, batting his hand away.

“Are you sure?” He asks, looking at you disbelievingly.

He leans in again and takes in a whiff of your scent and you immediately tense, freezing where you are. God damn it. His brows furrow.

“Y/n, you smell perfectly normal, maybe a bit stronger than usual, but definitely not bad.” He says, looking even more confused.

Before you’re able to fully process the words that just came out of Theo’s mouth, Enzo and Pansy come barreling down the hall towards the two of you in a fit of giggles.

“Y/n! y/n, you know I’m sorry, really I am, but if dousing you in amortentia is all it takes to get Draco and Granger to make complete fools of themselves in front of each other, I’d do it again!” Enzo exclaims between breathy laughs. “You haven’t seen ferret boy run past, by chance, by the way have you?

“Sorry, amor-what now?” Theo asks, blinking as he purses his lips.

You look between the three of your friends in alarm, praying no one mentioned anything after Theo had just announced that you smelled perfectly normal to him.

“Oh, you’re going to wish you were there! After you left, Draco was so pleased with himself. Looked like a kid on Christmas. Kept trying to flirt with Hermione until she finally sent a flock of doves to run him out of the classroom! Professor wasn’t too happy bout that one. Let us go early to find the blonde loon,” Enzo says, completely ignoring Theo’s question.

“I’m sorry, amor-WHAT?” Theo asks again, louder this time.

You feel yourself cringe.

“Amortentia.” Pansy snorts. “Do try and keep up Teddy.”

“This is what you get for always skiving off class with Matteo,” Enzo adds, nodding at the boy as if he were his disappointed mother.

“Mhmm. Enzo totally floozied over y/n’s potion this morning. Blew it up all over her and she’s been having people wander up to her to take a sniff all day.” Pansy tells him with a sniff.

Theo blinks again before slowly meeting your eyes as what he said only moments earlier begins to sink in. Pansy, ever the cunning witch, was lightening quick to catch on.

“Speaking of which, I am suddenly so interested in what exactly it is that you smell, dearest Teddy,” Pansy says as her eyes flicker between the two of you, a mischievous grin growing on her face.

Theo scowls at the nickname.

“Campfire.”

“Old parchment.” You say in unison.

Pansy smirks.

“Do you smell that Enzo?” She asks, making a show of sniffing the air around her. “I think I smell- a liar. Or two.”

Enzo only snickers as he eyes the both of you up. He knew exactly what you had been smelling all day and you begin to feel panic rise up in your chest. You send a menacing glare his way, daring him to open his mouth.

“Come on Pans, I don’t think Draco and Granger are the only ones who’ll be chatting up tonight,” he says finally.

Glaring at the pair’s disappearing backs, you once again turn slowly back to the problem at hand.

“Soo,” Theo starts at the same time you blurt out,

“This is entirely your fault.”

Theo’s mouth drops open, and he has the audacity to look offended.

“How do you figure mi amore?” He asks.

“You’re supposed to be my partner in potions, but you weren’t there today, so I had to work with,” you shudder, “Enzo.”

Rolling his eyes at your dramatics and giving you a small smile, Theo lets himself relax, leaning on the wall as he towers over you.

“Enzo isn’t so bad,” he says, slowly bringing a hand up to rest on your waist, gently moving you towards him. You pretend not to notice, taking a small, nervous step forward.

“He singed off Matteo’s eyebrows last year. The year before that, he didn’t realize there was a difference between fire flower and fired flour, and his potion melted through the floor. I heard a Puff call him Slytherin’s Seamus,” you retort. “Do you realize how bad you have to be at something to get made fun of by a Hufflepuff?” He snorts at that, cocking his head in agreement.

“Well I’m sorry alright? I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’ll have to. I have to go in again to remake the potion. Don’t want that bad mark on my grade.”

Theo only hums at this, as you’re finally standing nose to chest with him, forcing you to tilt your head up to still see his face.

“You really do smell nice,” he murmurs, pressing his nose lightly into your hair.

You make a face before nuzzling into his chest to hide the redness growing on your cheeks.

“I’m not talking about this in public. I simply refuse,” you say, trying to melt into him from pure embarrassment.

Theo looks down at you with a devilishly handsome grin before turning back to your long forgotten common room door.

“Hey, open up. She technically answered your little riddle earlier,” he tells the door.

The eagle grumbles something unintelligible as it starts to life again.

“I can always melt you down. I’m sure you’d make a great piss pot,” Theo threatens, going to pull out his wand.

The door swings open rather violently and you’re pretty sure you can hear a rather colorful string of curses come out of the eagle’s beak as you make your way inside. Having been there a thousand times before, Theo easily leads you to your shared, but thankfully empty, dorm room, closing the door behind you.

“You really don’t get along with that eagle, do you principessa?” He asks, throwing his shoes off and making himself comfortable on your bed like he usually did.

“Like you’re any better. You just threatened to turn it into a chamber pot,” you retort, falling easily back into your usual banter. This was fine. This was safe.

Theo only raises a brow at you.

“The blasted door is still mad at me for making a ur mum joke when it asked me if a chicken came before the egg in front of a bunch of second years.” You admit, letting your arms fall to your side.

Theo lets out a loud laugh at that shaking his head and extending his arm for you. You walk carefully towards the bed before hesitantly accepting his invitation. It’s not that cuddling with Theo was something unfamiliar to you, as much as you were hyper aware of the slightly awkward tension between the two of you that wasn’t usually there. You slide your shoes off as well before curling up next to him and laying your head on his chest. The two of you lay in silence and you slowly let your eyelids flutter shut, lost in the feeling of Theo’s chest rising and falling.

“You know. You still haven’t told me what your amortentia smells like,” Theo says, finally breaking the silence as he gently brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hair.

“Take a wild fucking guess,” you murmur, refusing to open your eyes and determined to get further lost in his warm touch.

He only hums in response, continuing to comb his fingers through the soft locks of hair.

“You know when Enzo asked me if I smelled you today, he thought you’d smell like hippogriff dung,” you say eventually.

“Fucking tosser. What did that git smell? Wild lavender?”

“And Daphne’s shampoo.”

You feel Theo snort as if he expected no less of your ever romantic best friend. Silence once again rolls over the both of you as you absentmindedly play with the edge of his shirt, rolling the soft fabric between your fingers nervously. The quiet begins to feel suffocating, so you open your mouth to speak, but Theo beats you to it.

“Champagne. And that perfume you always use. With the little white flowers. Lilies of the valley, right?” Theo says.

You open your eyes to look at him in confusion.

“That’s what you smell like.” He says, carefully running his hand down your spine, sending a shiver through you.

“I smell roasted coffee. And smoke. Not the fire-y kind though. The kind that sticks to your clothes cause you refuse to quit smoking.” You respond, looking into his eyes warily for his reaction.

Theo only smirks in response, a cocky grin spreading across his face.

“Aw mi amore, I’m what you’re most attracted to?” He asks, the teasing bait evident in his voice.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks as Theo gazed intently down at you in his arms.

“Shut up Theodore. You sure know how to ruin a moment,” you say, once again burying your face in a chest.

You feel his chest rumble with laughter before his hand snakes it way up to your chin, tilting your head up and capturing your lips with his. His lips are softer than you imagined as he moves them gently against yours. You let a soft gasp escape and Theo pulls you closer, gripping your waste tightly, and shifting you on top of him, deepening the kiss until you’re both left gasping for air.

“Was that more of what you had in mind amore?” He asks with an innocent smile, looking up at you with what you could only describe as his best baby seal eyes.

“I mean, you were definitely significantly more shirtless when I imagined it, but I can settle.” You joke.

Theo’s eyes darken however, and he lifts you as if you weigh nothing, flipping you over so that he now hovered above you, your back pinned against the bed beneath you. With one swift movement, Theo pulls his shirt up and over his head before lowering himself back down, his chest now pressed against yours.

“Better?”

You can’t help but laugh at the boy’s determination as your eyes shamelessly take in the lean muscle and tanned skin that was current above you.

“Theodore, as much as I enjoy this, you have to put your clothes on. Cho or Marietta could walk in at any time,” you tell him as you begin to make soft circles across his waist line with your thumbs, admiring the boy in front of you.

“Mm. You mouth is saying one thing, but these,” he says, placing his hands over yours, “are saying something else entirely.”

You roll your eyes, pulling your hands out from under his and handing him his discarded shirt.

“One kiss?” He asks, looking at the shirt as if it had mortally offended him.

“One kiss.”

He leans down, once again capturing your lips with his, but with more intensity this time. You feel one of his hands brush your waist as his thumb pushes up under your shirt, the rest of his hand following soon after, gripping tightly at the warm skin beneath. You let out a breathy moan when he flicks his tongue across your bottom lip, and he takes it as an invitation to let his tongue explore the rest of your mouth.

An awkward cough shakes you from the haze and you look up, over Theo’s shoulder to see Cho standing guiltily in the doorway.

“Sorry,” she says, looking literally anywhere but you and the shirtless boy above you. “Bad time?”

You cover your eyes in embarrassment, feeling heat once again rush to your cheeks.

“What did I tell you!” You groan, letting your head fall back onto your mound of pillows. Meanwhile Theo has a much too self satisfied grin across his face.

[se-dissimuler]

Is Azzurra the flower girl at their parents wedding OR do they get married fast before the baby comes

jannik’s ringless for a while unforch. do not fret though its their choice. i imagine their parents lowkey pressuring them to get married because we will NOT have a bastard in the family but like. in a soft and kind way. of course matteo and jani don’t want to rush it BUT matteo DOES buy a ring when baby azzurra pops out he just waits for the right moment

[squidfinch]

🚨💼? not part of the ask game, but what would their canto boss song be if they have one?

All of them again, sorrey

Never apologize for being insane about ocks king it’s so fun.

Okay here’s round two after tumblr deleted it All.

🚨

Matteo: despite how it fits in a surface level, Porccubus is only a little more familiar feeling than an average abno. It’s not really in the feeling of pleasure, but rather the attitude of it that feels familiar to them. I do think that he’d resonate a bit with Nothing There on account of the “Mimicking a Real Human” attitude Matteo was surrounded with growing up. The one they resonate with the most is The Road Home, despite not really having that many good memories of his “home”. Really, what he misses is Celia and Tam Lin, he never got the chance to really say goodbye to them. He only realized that they saw him as Family rather than as a Thing a few months after he had escaped the nest, and he wants so badly to be able to tell them so much.

Luo Ji, despite how much I’ve joked about him and alien-associated abnos like Fragment of the Universe, doesn’t have much affinity for it. His whole thing is based on revealing humanity’s location as a last resort, not as a wailing or crying out for comfort from some other being. Funnily enough though he would resonate a lot with Don’t Touch Me. Despite it being more of a gag abno than anything too serious, it’s a Big Red Button that destroys anything within a million billion mile radius. Luo Ji’s Goal in his plan is to have that as an Option so the aliens see he’s not playing around. That he’s not just bluffing.

Berlioz has an easy option as The Silent Orchestra, and she does resonate with it a lot, but I think the best fit for her is Singing Machine. The fact than it’s about a Deep and Uncompromising Obsession afflicted to anyone who hears its music has a good tie with her base EGO, Ideé Fixe.

Dorian is The Nefarious Fruit. Despite the obvious connection with Portrait of Another World. He’s the biggest hedonist in the division he for sure resonates well with The Pink Shoes. And Porccubus but not in the same way as Matteo. Definitely in the Pleasure aspect of it and a little in the attitude.

Roz’s case it’s a bit different. Since she’s just supposed to be A Robot she doesn’t really get much of a chance to resonate with anything before her canto. When she does it’s with the abnormality her The Wild EGO comes from. I haven’t really solidified anything about it but it is loosely based on the desire to Walk into the woods and unknowns and just disappear. Whether that be to find a new beginning in the woods or to simply pass on is something that’s still in the air. But the familiarity of the plants and animals that it promises is soooooo familiar to her.

Jay doesn’t really have any that he resonated with well, at least that he’ll admit. He’s a stubborn bastard and is even more so when someone/something agrees with him. Despite that, he does feel more familiar with abnos that are based on ideas and thoughts that are older than The City itself. He knows why, and they feel more familiar than anything else.

Dove is in a similar boat to Jay, at least in the aspect of older abnos are more familiar to her. However, since her character has a large focus on Sight and gaze, she does resonate well with Schadenfreude and The Burrowing Heaven. Moreso the latter than the former.

———————————————————————————

💼

Matteo doesn’t directly seek out the company, but they had made a few enemies from the previous company they worked for so they were looking for something to either lay low in until they got to O Corp, or something that offered a bit more protection. Limbus company approached them with an offer that fit into the latter of their options, and it was the best option for them. With increasing pressure from their previous employer, Matteo joined Limbus.

Luo Ji is a bit more. Strange. When he was fleeing his home district, he was being hunted by the ETO. He was deeply paranoid and panicked. He really wouldn’t mind being hired Somewhere, as long as it wasn’t in his home district. Literally he would have taken any offer as long as they had adequate protection for him, he was So Desperate. I imagine that by the time Luo had left his district word had gotten around about Limbus Company and their employees who never seemed to die. When he heard that he Deadlined towards Limbus as his best option, and to his relief, they accepted him as a sinner.

Berlioz is somewhat similar to Matteo. She was making a living in the backstreets of district J looking for an easy way out to Somewhere Else since she was wanted by the Ring. She was approached by the company and accepted after some deliberation and negotiating, though she couldn’t do as much as she liked.

Dorian, despite his hedonistic demeanor, has his back against So Many Walls. Slowly, his lifestyle and actions were closing in on him, and by the time he figured to seek out Limbus Company, he was at his last line. If they hadn’t accepted him, he probably would be dead by now.

Roz is unique, in that she was actually “purchased” by the company. She had been promised the opportunity to escape to the outskirts and find her son if she joined, and it took little convincing to make her accept. In Official records, Roz is just a company asset. It was easy to write her down as an expense and brand her as part of an Experimental Division with a robotic assistant. The Company knows what she is, but they are biding their time to see if she ever truly becomes “human” or stays a machine.

Jay and Dove joined the company for the same reason: it was the next logical step in their plan. The two believed that they were part of a grand prophecy, and they needed to find a way to prevent a grand disaster from coming to pass. They still believe this, but don’t talk about it with their coworkers. They had been outcast socially from their district, but they do have enemies within N corp, so joining Limbus was the best option for them the keep fighting against this grand disaster.

——————————————————————————��

Oguhsgsgdgsgx okay. Music. Boss songs

If I being honest I only have vague ideas for Matteo’s. Something along the line of Will Wood came to mind first but the more I reflect on that it feels a bit too manic for them. The themes from his music work, particularly about ConspiracyTheories and mental illnesses are in line with Matteo’s character/story. Though I would want it to have more of a focus on Matteo’s Complex Feelings over trying to dismantle O Corp in the least destructive way possible or simply assuming his job as CEO and continuing the family business as usual, with the promise of power included.

As for Luo Ji I do have one actually. Hand Me My Shovel, I’m Going In! By Will Wood. The atmosphere works well and the attitude of reaching his Deepest Point (shallow grave incident) to be able to actually enact his plans is really in line. Rather than a traditional boss fight I do imagine something about preventing Luo from shooting himself rather than directly fighting him. Or something. The gameplay aspect is still in the air.

An obvious option for Berlioz would be Movement V from Symphonie Fantastique, despite that not being a Song with Lyrics. I’m thinking something about the sinners eventually following her in her descent through hell. Somehow. Maybe more metaphorical. Berlioz herself is experiencing Real Actual Hell though.

I don’t have much of a song idea for Dorian if I am being completely honest he hasn’t quite graduated from Funny Guy to Ock to be Insane over yet. Idk I’ll read the spark notes about his base literature and come up with something later maybe.

With the Movie that came out the easy options for Roz would be one of the two songs from it, but I actually think of something more along the line with Cosmo Sheldrake’s music than anything. I’m imagining Cuckoo Song rn actually. Something more Somber. Focused on how much she’s changed since she had to leave her home and the ways it’s changed while she was gone. How she’s coming home from her own Migration of sorts.

I don’t have a good one for Jay or Dove rn but look up any warrior cats MAP based on either of them and you’ll get the jist /j.

[theedgeofsleep2024]

Katie: Yeah, I don’t like people. 

Matteo: Oh, well now that’s not fair Katie. Have you met all of them? 

Katie: I’ve met enough of them. People. What a bunch of bastards!